


Back against the wall

by peacock_butterfly



Series: A Real Hero [1]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Banter, Gen, Gender-Neutral Runner Five, Mute Runner Five, No Spoilers, Season 1, Side Mission, Vegetables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacock_butterfly/pseuds/peacock_butterfly
Summary: Just another grocery/pharma run... Nothing significant here, I just really like spending time with Four and Ten.“So many experiments, so little time,” says Ten wistfully. “Please don’t look at me like that, Jody, it’s all right, I’m not going to try anything this time. We’re all starting to tire.”“This time,” repeats Jody, with emphasis. “Well that’s just great.”“Yes, Ten, this is not the thyme. Get it? Thyme!”





	Back against the wall

 

_Tomorrow is another day..._

* * *

  
  


“Not _again_!”

The groan from Four is almost lost beneath the snarling groans from the small pack of tourist zombies that has them pinned in the overgrown walled garden of a long-abandoned country house.

“It’s all right!”

“No it bloody isn’t, Chris!” _Thwack_ , as Four wields a garden spade somewhat desperately. “You’ve got us trapped by a horde again!”

There’s a horrible thudding _splat_ noise and a soft grunt as Ten wields his hammer. Five is too busy yanking up lettuces and stuffing them into a sack to pay closer attention to the fight. “No, technically this isn’t a horde, Jody, there aren’t as many as--”

“Get down!”

Five was in the process of standing up and promptly drops to the soil again, as Four brings the garden spade around in a beautiful arc and half-decapitates an oncoming zom. It’s still wearing most of a waterproof poncho.

“Five get up, get up quick, there’s more of them coming. Through here!”

Still clutching the spade, Four shoves through the remains of a row of tomatoes, which have gone thoroughly wild and spindly but still smell wonderful, and kicks open an old wooden door set in the crumbly brick wall.

“You’re doing great guys,” says Sam in their ears. “And look, my camera shows there are some runner beans in this next bit.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” snipes Four, still angry.

“No, seriously.”

“You know what Sam, since I was a child, you know what my least favourite type of bean is? What I absolutely cannot stand, cooked in any way, shape or form?”

“I don’t know, Runner Four. Cannelloni beans?”

Ten barrels through the doorway. “That’s a type of pasta, Sam.”

“Is it? What do I mean? Sounds like it should be a Renaissance sculptor or an artist.”

“Cannellini?” supplies Ten.

“Thaaaat’s the one. That famous artist who painted the masterpiece ‘The Madonna of the... vines’... Do beans even grow on vines?”

“Aren’t they technically legumes?”

“Nah, that’s peas--”

“I hate runner beans!” cries Four in despair, as they crash through the remains of a potato patch.

Ten slows and turns around; a smile appears briefly on his face. “Ahh interesting. Watch this bottleneck now… they’re trying to chase us through the door, with no awareness of one another. Five, would you start the stopwatch?”

_Beep._

“Useful data, this… How long will a two-foot wide bottleneck hold off a pack of 20 to 30 zoms? This will be the first data point.”

“The first?” Four groans again. “Does this mean we have to do this _again_?”

“Good spot for it,” says Ten cheerfully. “The first part of the garden with the intact walls ensures you’re only ever dealing with about 30 of them, and there’s only one possible entrance to test the bottleneck.”

“And so how do _we_ get out of this part?” asks Four tartly.

Runner Ten falters. “Er. Well, I’m pretty sure you decided that I am no longer in charge of escape routes?”

“ _You’re_ the one that got us _into_ this! How am I supposed to get us out of it if you won’t stop and think about how we get out before you get us in?!”

“ _I_ don’t know! I thought that was the entire point!”

“Okay okay let’s all just calm down a moment,” says Sam hurriedly. “Uh. Wait a minute, Five, are any of those squash things down by your left still edible? Grab some if you can. We might be able to roast--”

“Oh forget the groceries, Sam!” wails Four. She flings the garden spade at the oncoming pack, making three zombies collapse as they trip over it. “They’re coming through! Get us out of here!”

“Aaaaand stop the clock, Five, one got through.”

 _Beep_.

Comprehension dawns on Ten. “Oh. Oh dear, one got through. Er.”

Five rolls their eyes, tosses the stopwatch to Ten, drops the sack of groceries, and takes out the tottering tourist zombie with a bamboo stake to the chest.

Sam cheers. “Nice one Five! Yeah, you’re going to have to climb the wall, guys. No other way out. That bottleneck is still keeping them at bay, they’re all jammed up in the gap. Or you could say they’re _squashed_ , heh.”

“Runners Four, Five and Ten, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear Maxine,” replies Ten. “Go ahead.”

“Look, I know this is a bad time, but on the other side of the house there’s an herb garden. I need you to go there and rescue some medicinal plants. I would love entire plants, but I know what you’re like. Handfuls of leaves will do, or seeds if you can.”

“I never believed in that stuff,” comments Four, from halfway up the wall. Five distracts another zombie with the bamboo cane, letting Ten pounce from behind. “Just… ugh… make-believe nonsense to make Boots some money.”

Sam breathes a reminiscent sigh. “Remember when you could get an untouched packet of ibuprofen for 20p at Sainsbury’s… remember Sainsbury’s? Heck, does anyone remember 20p coins?”

“At least now there’s no one to stop you from grabbing armfuls of it,” replies Four, from atop the wall.

“When was the last time you saw an entire _armful_ of--”

Four interrupts, “Ahww, Chris you were right! It’s completely clear on this side, they are actually _all_ trying to get into this walled garden. There’s about another… thirty zombies trying to get into the first part but they’re all stuck at the door too.”

“Should one of us-- ugh!” _Thwack_ goes the hammer, down goes a zom. “Should one of us remain here to keep them distracted? Sorry Five, that went all over your trainers…”

Five shrugs, and stamps down on the zombie hand that’s still clutching at the air.

“Here Five, catch!”

Four tosses down a plastic toy fire engine; Five examines it quickly to see the siren button taped down with duct tape, and a thin piece of plastic stuck under the battery cover.

“Yeah, once you pull out that tab of plastic it’s nee naw nee naw for hours and _hours_. Both of you, come on, get up here now. We won’t have much time when that thing gets going, me and Eight tried it, you can hear it from nearly a K away.”

“Yeah,” adds Sam, “bearing in mind there are about fifty to sixty zoms who have all become obsessed with that walled garden, the surrounding area is clear. Runner Four is right. Drop the noisemaker, climb the wall, make a _silent_ medicine run and come on home.”

“It sounds so simple when you put it like that,” mutters Four, swinging her legs over and eyeing up the drop. “And this wall looked _so_ much smaller from down on the ground.”

Runner Ten swears suddenly.

Five whips around from dispatching the crawler to see the tiny doorway to this last part of the walled garden has begun to crack under the strain of the zombies pressing in on it.

“Guys?” asks Sam.

“Get yourself out of here Five, I’ll hold them off.”

“All by yourself?!” exclaims Sam. “And also, no! You’re too valuable!”

Another crunch and crumble, and three zombies get through the opening at once.

“I’m just another runner, Sam.”

“Yeah, but you’re Runner _Ten_.”

A tense silence as they fight. Five fends off two with the bamboo, Ten upper-cuts the other with the hammer

“Five!” cries Four. “Use the noisemaker! Now! Chuck it over the wall!”

Five makes a little exclamation, snatches up the fire engine from where it had been dropped in the soil, and yanks out the piece of plastic.

“Now!” yells Ten, as the other two begin to close in on him. “Now is good!”

Five grits their teeth and yanks out the piece of plastic from the toy fire engine. The siren sound is deafening. Runner Twenty-One must have got in there with her soldering iron and boosted it somehow. The runners feel rather than hear the enraged snarling from the pack of zombies. Five freezes for a second in shock, then hurls the toy fire engine over the wall, back into the first part of the walled garden.

The zombies’ heads go up and over, drawn hopelessly to the louder noise rather than the fresh meat. Five stands absolutely still, chest heaving. As the last zom leaves the garden, Runner Ten slumps back against the wall, momentarily crippled with relief. “Well done, Five. I must admit I… I _really_ didn’t like those odds.”

Five edges back away from the doorway, and turns and flashes him a shaky smile. They hold up a hand, which is visibly quivering.

“Okay guys, well done,” says Sam. “Now, I don’t want to alarm you, but that thing is… well.  Loud. And uh. Every undead head for a mile around has sort of… turned towards it. And you.”

Ten sighs heavily, and pushes himself up away from the wall. “That is the snag about noisemakers…” he says quietly, mindful of the technically-not-a-horde still very close by. “Extremely effective at long range. There must be some neurons still firing in those rotting brains of theirs.” Five comes over and laces their fingers together, and offers Ten a leg-up. He accepts it and begins to climb the wall. “Thank you. Electrical impulses still functioning. Hnng… I suspect hearing is the best sense left. All little babies can hear before they can see. Jody? All okay over there?”

“Yeah! Yeah I think so. Can’t see nothing at the moment.”

“Are you eating something?”

“No!”

“...You _are_ eating something.”

“I’m not eating anything!”

Ten gets one leg over the wall and sits, and looks back down. “Here Five, throw the sacks up to me would you? Hup… Thank you, good throw. Here Jody, catch.” He tosses the first sack down. “I didn’t know you liked carrots so much.”

“I was not eating a carrot, okay, I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t steal food like that. Unless it was a really really small carrot. And unless I had skipped lunch to go on a supply run.”

Ten tries to control a smile, and stretches to catch the other sack that Five throws up to him. “Oof, heavier this one. We should distribute the weight a bit more evenly when we’re all on the same side of the wall. Second one, Jody, catch.”

“Ow!”

“I said catch.”

“I did! It hurt! Oh, Chris wait, it’s easier if you get your foot further down before you come off the top, there’s a hole in the bricks just there, just a bit lower… lower… lower, there it is.”

“Thanks. Ugh... Getting down is… significantly more difficult it seems... You okay over there Five?”

Five replies by beginning to scramble up the wall, grunting in exertion.

“Five’s fine, they’re still distracted,” confirms Sam. “Hey, if you’re quick you can get to that hhhherb garden before they notice you.”

“I think you’ll find it’s pronounced ‘erb’,” says Maxine, with a smile.

“It’s got a bloody H in it!”

Five gets to the top of the wall, straddles, swings a leg over, and stretches a foot down, finding the hole Four had been talking about. “Cor, you aren’t half good at this, Five,” comments Four, over the sounds of Maxine and Sam bickering about phonology. “You’re way faster than I am at climbing. Come on, grab this sack. I’ve sorted them out a bit so they’re a bit more balanced.”

Ten is scanning the lane they have landed in, outside the garden, hands to his eyes. The garden wall lies opposite a very muddy field, and there’s a dirt and gravel path leading back around the house gardens. A couple of shamblers are lurching over the field in their direction, slowed to insignificance by the mud. Five drops the last few feet and accepts their share of the groceries from Four, glancing around automatically before crouching to re-pack their rucksack.

“I don’t like this,” says Ten, unexpectedly.

“What?” asks Sam, suddenly urgent. “What don’t you like?”

“I know that noisemaker was the only thing that stopped us getting completely torn apart just now, but I think it might’ve ruined our day… Look over there.”

He points to the south, down the straight lane, away from the house. Five comes to look, shouldering the pack, and squints for a moment before realising horribly that the entire distant path is a lurching blurry mass of undead bodies, on the move. In their direction.

“Oh them? Nah, you’re fine, you’ve got a good fifteen minutes before they’re on you, guys. Maybe twenty if you’re fast.”

“How did I not see that?” wonders Four dispiritedly. “I’ve been keeping a look-out since I climbed over.”

“I er... I just know where to look,” replies Ten. “That’s all. They’ve only just appeared there. Congregating. Yes, er, okay. Er… Well. Actually...”

Four groans. “Oh no. No, I know that look. No. We’re going _home_ , Chris, understand? There are too many zombies and we are carrying too much stuff to do one of your insane manoeuvre tests now. Just... no.”

“Oh come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” retorts Ten. “I need three people for this one. I bet Five’s up for it.”

“Hey! Don’t you forget about my plants,” interrupts Maxine. “I was here first. I kind of _need_ those. Vital supplies?”

“And it’s not _insane_ ! It’s _resea_ \--”

“Yeah, I’m afraid medical supplies do have to take priority at this time, Chris,” says Sam, with a distinct note of regret. “Sorry, mate. Maybe next time?”

“Hah,” grins Four in triumph.

Five shrugs at Ten, pulling a face that distinctly suggests they had been very much up for it before the mission took precedence.

“Oh well… Let’s all go together then,” says Ten, adjusting the straps of his pack. “Perhaps it’d be best if someone could run the perimeter, while the other two get the plants?”

Five nods and raises a hand.

“So Five’s running interference and Four and Ten will acquire the supplies. Noted!”

Maxine pauses. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” preens Sam, “I have decided to try and be more professional.”

“That was kind of creepy actually,” comments Four, as the three of them set off at a gentle jog. Ten keeps glancing behind them, and at the two zombies in the field. “Coming from you. What’s wrong with just saying ‘Five is the distraction, Four and Ten get the stuff’?”

A pencil scratches faintly. “I am adding... insubordination... to your official record…Runner Four… How do you spell insubordination?”

“You don’t have records,” scoffs Four, sharing a grin with Five. “I’ve seen inside that shack, it’s a mess. And you can barely remember what day it is, most of the time.”

“I keep telling him to take more breaks,” puts in Maxine, a mix of exasperated and worried.  

“You should you know, Sam,” adds Four. “Amber can cover for you, or Janine. You don’t have to be here every time, all the time.”

“Yeah, I know but… but…”

“What happens will happen,” says Maxine acutely. “And it will happen whether you’re here or not.”

“I can’t believe that. I just-- Yeah. Whatever. When did this turn into group therapy hour? Some of us are on the job right now, Maxine.”

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t start it.”

The lane turns right, and joins a wider main road that leads back past the original garden entrance and up to the house. The runners can still hear the scream of the toy fire engine, amongst a horrible chorus of groans and moans, and the soft, weird noises of the movement of rotting flesh. Four raises a finger to her lips and the other two nod, and they run quickly and quietly past the door to the garden.

Maxine shifts in her seat. “Herb garden’s coming up, runners. Inside is clear. Outside… Yeah, there are a few zoms outside, they’re heading in your direction, but it’s because they’re attracted to the noisemaker. They’re actually lurching in the same rhythm as the siren sound, I think.”

“You’re right… How interesting,” blurts Ten. “You see I really do think hearing is a much more significant factor what remains of their cognition.”

Runner Four jogs to be level with Five. “Hey Five, give us your pack. You’ll be faster without it.”

Ten continues, “I mean the potential of this is fascinating. What if you got them stepping in time to one sound, and then increased the tempo?”

“Oh! Oh god,” moans Sam, “Oh god I just had a vision of zombie Mary Poppins. Undead chimney sweeps on the rooftops of London. Don’t do this to me when I’m sleep deprived, please...”

“There, there it is, Runners,” interrupts Maxine. That broken wall on your left. There’s a hole you can climb through.”

“You’re up, Five,” says Four, eyeing the oncoming pair of zombies, who have noticed the runners and are now distracted from the distraction. “Keep them off us. Specially since this is another bloody bottleneck.”

“So many experiments, so little time,” says Ten wistfully. “Please don’t look at me like that, Jody, it’s all right, I’m not going to try anything this time. We’re all starting to tire.”

“ _This_ time,” repeats Jody, with emphasis. “Well that’s just great.”

“Yes, Ten, this is not the thyme. Get it? _Thyme_!”

“Now, some sage advice,” says Maxine, clearly failing to keep a straight face. Sam groans joyfully in the background, cringing away from the microphone. “Seriously though. I’m desperate for marigold, camomile, thyme, mint, witch hazel, and St John’s Wort.”

“St John’s What?”

“No, wort, it’s… Actually I have no idea why it’s called that. It’s a bright yellow flower with loads of spiky stamen things in the middle. Good for anxiety and depression.”

Five pauses by the hole as Ten follows Four through it, then runs a ring around the two zombies to grab their attention and starts off down the road, away from the house and its gardens. The zombies are also wearing waterproof ponchos.

“Two on your tail, Five, but your pace is great, you’re fine. You’re heading towards another small bunch but nothing to worry about yet.”

“What’s a witch hazel look like, Maxine?” asks Ten.

“It’s a small tree, should be in flower about now. They look kind of like little yellow anemones, like they have lots of tentacles. I need some stems, from the flowers or from the leaves, doesn’t matter.”

There’s a concentrated silence for a few minutes. The gentle snapping of stems and leaves filters through Four and Ten’s headsets. Five runs for a few paces with their arms out at their sides, shaking off their hands. Ten’s right, they are all getting tired. Time to focus. This is when mistakes happen. The road continues through fields on either side, which are currently quiet, but both fields are populated by shambling figures trying to get their numb feet through the wet mud. There are about fifteen all together, plus the two behind.

“Five, uh, you need to slow down a bit. You’ll lose them otherwise.”

“Good time for a recovery run,” adds Maxine. “Get that heart rate down. There’s a clear loop staying on the roads around this sort of compound, long-range cams just show a handful of zoms in the fields around you. You can run laps.”

“We’ll keep an eye on Chris and Jody. Just keep the perimeter clear,” confirms Sam. “Just… keep calm, and keep running.”

“ _Slowly_ ,” clarifies Maxine. “Keep running slowly. You need to work off this adrenaline.”

Five permits themselves another eye-roll, but obeys. It feels wrong to slow down, but the operators are right, there’s no danger at the moment. Or rather, the danger is well-managed, which is about the best you can hope for these days.

By the time Four sticks her head out of the garden wall again, Five has collected a slow train of shamblers, and two faster zoms are clawing their way out of the ditch at the side of the road. “Yes, good Four, I was just about to suggest you leave now,” says Sam. “Five has them under control for the moment but they are coming. Fast ones too. All of you, get out of there, come on home.”

It turns out the fast ones are quite fast. They chase the Runners clear up the hill towards the ruined village. Five manages to get one to fall into a ditch, but the other has some awful kind of gore going on that means it’s too dangerous to get close for a hammer or a bat, and Four has no arrows left, and they have to give up trying to hit it and decide to just run.

“Oh god,” whispers Jody, glancing behind, soft with fear. “Oh god. I don’t want to die.”

“We’re not going to die.”

“Really?”

“No. Not today,” says Chris firmly. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow, but not today.”

“Not today?”

“Not today.”

“Maybe tomorrow, but not today,” repeats Four, increasing her pace. “Maybe tomorrow, but not today.”

They make it home. But on the way they pick up the pack they had seen when leaving the walled garden, plus the tourists from inside the garden, and it turns out Chris’ new manouevre only works when you’re not carrying a sack full of vegetables, and it turns out zombies are not attracted to parsley, and it turns out a well-aimed potato is just about as good as a rock. It turns out Sam bit another hole through the cuff of his jumper talking them through that one. It turns out Four and Ten found enough St John’s Wort for Maxine to attempt making a tincture.

They eat beans for dinner. They sleep. And tomorrow becomes today.

**Author's Note:**

> Trivia: I found myself saying that to Jody out loud, while running through Sheffield one night playing a mission.


End file.
